Despite the wound on his back, Crowne could still stand. He gripped his sword tightly, taking a few deep breaths before finally nodding.
"Let's start again!" said Crowne.
The wolf grinned, intrigued. He was pleased—finally, someone shared his unyielding resolve.
He raised the large sword in his left hand. His fur bristled with excitement, his red eyes glowed, and flames burst from his body.
"Come on!" the wolf said.
He prepared himself and dashed forward with incredible speed. In less than a second, he was already in front of Crowne, swinging his sword downward.
Traaanggg!
The strike was blocked by Crowne, but his body was forced down by the pressure. His arms and legs trembled from the impact.
Crowne quickly tilted his sword, deflecting the wolf's blade just enough to slip past. At the same moment, he lunged forward and countered with a slash.
Slash!
The strike barely missed, but the wolf staggered back. A drop of blood fell from his neck. When he touched it, he felt a shallow cut across the skin.
"It's been a long time since I was last wounded. This is truly interesting," said the wolf with a grin.
While the wolf was speaking, Crowne suddenly appeared behind him and launched a swift horizontal slash.
However, the wolf was not careless. He turned around and blocked the attack, then pushed Crowne back with sheer force.
While Crowne was still airborne, the wolf stepped forward, seizing the opening he had created. Crowne clicked his tongue in frustration—dodging midair was almost impossible. With no foothold, he couldn't change direction.
But Crowne wasn't foolish. He channeled mana into his hand, forming a powerful wind sphere, and struck his own stomach with it. In an instant, the force propelled his body backward.
The wolf's slash missed, but Crowne coughed up blood from the recoil of his own spell.
The wolf looked shocked. "You're insane. I've never seen a fighter like you."
At the same time, Crowne stood up again, ignoring the pain coursing through his body. He had only one goal—to defeat the wolf before him and…
"I'll make you my servant," he said with a serious face.
The wolf laughed at Crowne's words. He could laugh because he was confident he would win. Besides, he wasn't a beast that could be tamed.
"I am part of the Beastman race. You can't tame me," said the wolf.
But from Crowne's expression, it was clear he didn't care about that fact at all.
He tightened his grip and prepared for another round. This time, his resolve was unwavering. This opponent was truly worth fighting—not just because of strength, but because the wolf possessed a knight's spirit.
He was the perfect rival to test how far Crowne had come.
"Come forward! Give me everything you've got," said Crowne.
The wolf smiled. "I should be the one saying that."
Both of them stood ready. Moments later, they charged at each other once again—
A clash between two knights who both refused to lose.
At the same time, Sylvara, Velrisa, and Ronan had entered the cave. Sylvara and Velrisa walked calmly at the front, while Ronan followed behind them anxiously.
His eyes darted around constantly. He could feel a sinister presence lurking within the cave, but he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from.
"Shouldn't we wait for Lord Crowne first?" Ronan asked, his face pale.
"Master already ordered us to enter the cave. That's our mission," Velrisa replied firmly.
"But I can feel something bad inside. Isn't this dangerous?" Ronan said again.
"Of course," Velrisa answered casually, as if the danger he mentioned was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Our enemy is a creature known as a Lich," she added.
Upon hearing that word, Ronan swallowed hard. He knew exactly what a Lich was—a human who had sold their soul to the God of Death, obsessed with achieving immortality.
They were humans who had forsaken their humanity for the sake of eternal life, losing their very souls in the process.
Liches were hated and cursed by all mages across the Everon Kingdom. Anyone who became a Lich was to be executed on sight—no trial, no mercy—because a Lich was a true abomination.
They would sacrifice hundreds, even thousands of lives for the sake of their experiments.
"Are you sure? How do you know that?" Ronan asked, hoping Velrisa would laugh and tell him it was just a joke. "You're kidding, right?"
Velrisa suddenly stopped and pointed forward. "There!" she said.
Ronan immediately looked in the direction she pointed. Standing on a stone altar about two hundred meters away was a humanoid figure. The moment Ronan saw it, he gulped nervously. His whole body trembled in fear.
Moments later, the Lich turned around—its red eyes glowing in the dim cave.
Ronan shook his head repeatedly. "No. This is bad," he said. He turned and started running toward the exit. "We have to get out of here now!"
But no one followed him. When he looked back, Sylvara and Velrisa were still standing in place, not moving an inch. Then, both of them stepped forward and glanced at each other.
"Will you fight it, or should I?" Velrisa asked.
Sylvara was silent for a few seconds before turning to her right. "You do it! I don't like corpses like that. The stench will cling to me, and I don't want Master to hate me for it," she replied.
Velrisa nodded. "Very well."
She stepped forward, extending her hand. A scythe appeared in her right hand. She readied herself for battle—but her expression showed no enthusiasm, as if she wasn't really interested.
Ronan watched her in disbelief. "They're completely insane," he muttered.